Tunia was certain that she was being followed. Twice now, she had spotted a group of five warriors on her back trail. In spite of her haste, they were catching up to her. Her pony was tiring quickly and she had to stop often to check her whereabouts. She felt that she had to be in the vicinity of Maryland Pass but could not tell how much farther she had to go.
She had been groping through the wild lands for nearly two hours since she had given up her attempt to enter West Pass. Her progress had been fairly southerly in direction but had been pretty hard going until she had found the trail. It wound through boulders and past trees, going five miles for every four that she gained in a straight line but it was fairly easy traveling and she had been pushing the tired bay pony as hard as she dared, considering the distance yet to go.
She had passed a tall peak of pink marble just a few minutes earlier when she came to a wide meadow. The trail cut across it as straight as an arrow's path. She spurred her pony into a canter and sped across, her eyes scanning the trees on the far side.
Suddenly, a tall man, dressed in buckskin and riding a dapple gray pony came out of the woods and reined to a stop in front of her path. Her heart lifted at the sight of him and she raised her hand in greeting, a grin beginning to spread across her face. Then the look of joy turned to one of horror. A large nomad appeared behind the hunter and the horror turned to alarm as the savage lifted a small crossbow and aimed it almost straight at her head.
The bolt was fired and went speeding by, a complete miss. The tall hunter also lifted a crossbow and was shouting something at her when she heard a scream come from not too far behind her. Then she realized her situation. The hunter and his companion were firing at someone who was in hot pursuit behind her. She leaned forward over her pony's neck and urged him to his fastest pace. She was aware of the hunter firing his first bolt as she raced past him and began to haul the pony to a stop.
Things were a confused whirl as she wheeled the pony around to assess her situation. She could see three mounted nomads pulling to a stop in the middle of the meadow. Two confused, unmounted ponies were trotting off in opposite directions and two bodies lay on the ground by the track. The Hunter was hurriedly reloading his crossbow but his companion, the big nomad, had secured his crossbow and was busily putting a short sword into his left hand with his right. No, there was no left hand. That arm ended in a metal hook but somehow, the sword stuck there as though it was grasped by a hand. Two seconds later, a long sword leapt to the big man's right hand and he spurred his pony forward.
Almost simultaneously with his companion's charge, the hunter fired his second bolt, sending a third member of the opposing party to the ground. The hunter then leisurely began reloading his crossbow, his pony at a standstill well out of range of the nomad short bows. He seemed to be watching his companion's furious charge with an amused smile on his face.
Tunia pulled her sweating pony up alongside of him. "Aren't you going to help him?" she asked incredulously.
"He don't want no hep," commented the hunter, his eyes still on the scene before him. "I 'spect I'll let Chan do what he does best. They's on’y two of 'em." He lowered his loaded crossbow and calmly watched the drama unfolding before his eyes as though confident of the outcome.
Neither of the remaining nomads had bothered to reach for their short bows still slung over their shoulders. Tunia realized with a gasp that the three deadly crossbow shots had been made from extreme range. The short bows would have been ineffective at that distance. The lone nomad had drawn swords and challenged them with an insulting remark as he had spurred forward to meet them. Thus challenged, the proud warriors had disdainfully rejected the thought of using arrows against a single opponent but, instead, drew their own swords and snatched up their shields from the pommels of their saddles.
Chan rode straight toward them as though he wished to pass between the two of them but at the last instant his pony swerved to the right, passing in a left side encounter with one of the nomads and leaving the second warrior out of the action for the moment. His opponent swept a hard cross body blow at the moment of their passing. Instead of parrying it with his long sword, however, Chan deflected it with the short sword attached to his hook. His pony, in the meantime, was stopping and wheeling to the left. This put Chan out of reach of his opponent's sword and brought him within striking distance of the man's unprotected back. The first swipe of Chan's long sword neatly decapitated the man.
The second warrior, in the meantime, was checking his speed and wheeling around to get into the fray. Chan let the horse and body of the first warrior get between them in order to set up his next assault.
As the pony bolted from between them, its headless rider sliding from the saddle, the two swordsmen came together in a right side encounter practically at a stand-still. The two long swords met and clashed with a ring. The ponies jockeyed back and forth for position as the two nomads struck and parried time and again. Due to the right side encounter, Chan was unable to get his short sword into the action but the responsiveness of his mount, Fire, finally gave him the advantage he needed. When his opponent made the mistake of telegraphing one of his strikes, Chan gave a nudge with his knee that signaled a side step. The pony stepped away at just the right moment. Instead of parrying the stroke with his sword, Chan delayed his strike. Again responding to knee pressure, Fire stepped into the warrior's pony with a bump, dislodging its rider. Chan was able to strike downwards and smite the man on his shoulder, drawing a stream of blood. It was a damaging blow but not a fatal one.
The man fell to the ground on the opposite side of his pony and rolled away, retaining a grip on his sword and shield as he attempted to avoid the beast's flailing hooves. Seeing his opponent on foot but still armed and ready, Chan waited for the other pony to bolt away and kicked his right leg over Fire's neck, dropping to the ground in one fluid motion without the use of his hands.
The Silarite warrior stood ready for him. Blood was seeping from the wound in his shoulder at a rate that might have killed him eventually but, for the moment, he was strong enough to vanquish a lesser opponent. This, however, was Chan who strode purposefully toward him with two swords at the ready. They met with a blinding flurry of sword strokes that caused the wounded Silarite to give ground steadily. They broke apart and Tunia could see that Chan had said something in a low voice to his opponent. In a rage, the other nomad leapt at him with a mighty blow that was easily parried by Chan's long sword. At the same instant, Chan's short sword snaked in to pierce the heart of the surprised warrior.
Tunia's heart was racing as she watched the big nomad grimly wipe the blood from his swords on his late opponent's breeches and return them to their respective scabbards. For the first time, she realized that this man was one of the most handsome she had ever seen. She watched, spellbound, as he walked slowly over to his pony, mounted up and rode back in their direction. His eyes were glued to her face as he approached. He stopped next to her, paused and pulled his short sleeved tunic up over his head.
"Perhaps you would like to wear this 'til something more suitable can be found," he said, handing it to her.
Tunia took the garment, blushing furiously. She had been naked for so long, she had forgotten about it in the excitement of the chase and the final, deadly encounter. Quickly, she slipped it over her head. It smelled sweetly of dirt, sweat and the aroma of the man but she did not mind at all. On him, it had come just below his waist but to her, it was a rather broad shouldered shift that fell well below her buttocks, giving her a feeling of security that she had nearly forgotten long since.
"What brings you out here alone with no clothes and with a band of Silarite warriors on your back trail?" the nomad asked in a deep voice that sent shivers down her spine.
"They were trying to take me back to their camp before I could spread the alarm," she answered, breathlessly. "The lack of clothes was Goovon's idea, curse him."
The two hunters looked at each other with surprise. A moment later, Helvon s
poke up. "This Goovon, were he a shifty character with a big scar 'cross his face like this?" His finger traced a track across his own face that followed almost exactly the remembered disfigurement of her tormenter. "Didn't think he'd last this long. He hep ya ta 'scape er somethin'?"
"It was him that I escaped from," she answered with feeling. "In return for his life and me as his slave and plaything, he had agreed to train twenty warriors to pose as a hunting party from another crater. He is going to lead them up to Maryland Pass and vouch for them with the pass guards. After getting into the crater, they will turn around and press the guards from the rear as the main attack hits them from outside. It's all supposed to happen at about noon today. That's almost two hours from now. Can we get to the pass by that time?"
"Should be no problem," commented the tall hunter. "Figger we best get goin' right away, though. Fust, let's round up 'nother mount fer ya. This'n looks all tuckered out." He turned his mount around and proceeded back down the trail. Not far away, a procession of pack ponies stood waiting, tied to a tree.
Without dismounting, Helvon caught up the reins of a saddled pinto pony. "'Spect Kit won't mind ya usin' his. He prefers ta fly, anyway. Tie thet'n ta th' back o' th' train an' hop aboard ol' Paint here."
Ten minutes later, the three riders were about to step forward onto the main road to Maryland Pass when the sound of many hooves caused them to draw back into the bushes at the side of the road. A large group of men dressed similarly to Helvon passed by at a trot. When they had passed, Tunia looked at Helvon in alarm.
"Did you see him at the front of the group?" she asked.
"Goovon," the hunter said, nodding. "Looks like they d'cided ta start th' show a mite early."
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Kit saw the band of "hunters" as they parted company with the nomad army. He and Flash were at some three thousand feet above and at least three miles east of their positions and nearly invisible to them. He began scanning the area to the south down the corridor where he expected to find Helvon and Chan. It would be a disaster if the two hunters were to fall in with the approaching band, not knowing that they were nomads. Finally, he spotted them riding the trail down the corridor headed north toward the road traveled by the nomads. Kit was too high to attract their attention without also alerting the rapidly approaching "hunters." With a sinking stomach, he realized that his friends would reach the trail's intersection with the main road to the pass at almost the same time as would the nomad contingent.
Kit noticed that a small, dark haired person was riding his pinto, Paint, right behind Chan's large figure. Just as the three of them were about to emerge onto the road, Kit saw Helvon's hand lift up in a signal to the other two. To Kit's relief, they melted back into the bushes as the "hunting party" cantered past. They then broke from cover and began pacing the group far to their rear. Kit could see their extra pack ponies tied back among the bushes away from either the road or the trail. He followed along just over his friends' heads and ordered Flash to begin lowering his altitude. He loaded his Ganton model and waited for the action to begin.
Chan fired the first bolt when the group was a mere one hundred yards from the pass guards. The rear most nomad slipped silently from his pony, neither heard nor seen by his comrades. Helvon's shot came next, but only a split second before Kit's bolt shot down from above. Helvon's target also fell from his pony but did so with a scream. Kit's bolt left a third man slumping over the neck of his pony with a groan.
The cry from their mortally wounded comrade alerted the remaining members of the nomad "hunting party" but it also caught the attention of the pass guards. The party stopped some two hundred feet from its objective and milled about in confusion as Chan's second bolt decimated another of their number.
Helvon's unmistakable voice rang out across the throng. "They's nomads in disguise! Don't let 'em through!" He fired a second bolt as he repeated his warning.
Kit had already snapped another bolt into his crossbow and caused Flash to whistle a loud "karee" just before he fired into the band of disguised nomads, cutting their number down to fifteen.
Helvon, Chan and Tunia were far enough back so that only a powerful crossbow would have any accuracy in returning fire. Several of the antiquated weapons that the war party was carrying were fired but the bolts fell short by ten feet or more. Three of the rearmost warriors wheeled their ponies about and charged toward them with howling war cries and drawn swords. Before they had closed half the intervening distance, they were struck down by two bolts from in front of them and a third one from above.
The sight of an Eagle Rider firing on an "innocent hunting party" and the distinctive nomad war cries that emanated from that party had finally alerted the pass guards to the ruse. The five of their twenty who were armed with crossbows immediately took aim and fired on the group.
Within the party itself, Goovon found himself staring at the tip of a bolt aimed right at his gut. The crossbow in question was in the hand of Hox, the ranking nomad among "the twenty." The squat warrior motioned Goovon to the right and shouted out an order to the remainder of his band. Disciplined soldiers that they were, the remaining ten warriors wheeled as one and fled to the north in an attempt to avoid the crossfire between the Guardsmen ahead of them and the hunters behind them. Six more of them fell before the retreating party was out of range.
Kit watched with relief as the two hunters and their ward rode up to the Guardsmen's defensive position and were admitted behind the bulwarks. Kit ordered Fury to turn back to the west. He had to assess the danger of attack by the army still hidden there. The answer was not long in coming for the vanguard of that column appeared in the form of a cavalry troop numbering perhaps seventy strong.
Kit was now low enough to be seen by the nomads but still out of range of their short bows. He met them some seven miles out from the pass and stayed right above them, firing deadly missiles into their formation as rapidly as he could load and aim. By the time they were within striking distance of the pass, ten unmounted ponies were creating havoc in their formation. Twice, Kit had aimed bolts at the tall nomad leader in the van of the charge but the leader seemed to have a charmed existence and had changed directions each time just as the bolts were fired.
Down below, Helvon and Chan had their swords at the ready and their crossbows busy as soon as the charge had come within range. The volley of bolts fired by the seven marksmen behind the barricade caused five more nomads to fall before the charge was on them. Chan had barely enough time to clip his short sword in place and snatch up his long sword before the engagement was closed.
Kit continued his deadly fire from up above as he watched his friends fight for their lives below him. Nomad ponies were leaping the bulwarks in large numbers but the defenders were putting up a stiff fight. The young flier noted the number of bodies that were piling up in front of Chan as his two swords wove a deadly pattern of iron that thwarted every attack. Helvon had opted for a sword and shield and was also taking a large toll on his attackers. On two separate occasions, Kit took nomad warriors down from above just before they tried to strike at the tall hunter's unprotected back.
Suddenly, Kit heard several large explosions behind him. Turning in the saddle, he saw several Glider Riders passing over the nomad infantry column that was rapidly approaching from the west. Washington's new bomb wing was on the job. Seeing that the cavalry charge was being called back by its tall commander and feeling that he could do little more from above since his bolts were nearly expended, Kit ordered Flash to land to the rear of the Guardsmen's position.
As Kit released his straps and leapt from the big bird's back, he noticed a girl in her late teens standing nearby and holding the reins to his pinto. He ordered Flash to fly up to the safety of the skies above and turned briefly to talk to her.
"You must be the one who came in with Helvon and Chan," he said. "Take Paint and ride through the pass. Tell the reserves, who should be approaching it by now, to hurry. If they don't, we'll be
overrun before they get here." The girl leapt to the saddle as Kit turned and hurried toward the battlements.
More explosions were sounding to the west as Kit joined Helvon and Chan behind the barricades. Chan glanced at the sword and knife in Kit's hands and grinned.
"The new skills you have taught me have served me well, little brother," he said. "Many Silarites have died out there," he jerked his head toward the west, "but I think there will still be plenty for you to cut your teeth on."
Helvon indicated two dead nomads behind his position who lay there with bolts protruding from their bodies, bolts which had obviously been fired from above. "'Pears ta me thet he done got his teeth bloodied a mite already. Thanks, lad. Didn't even know they was thar at th' time. Where's Flash?"
Kit grinned and pointed up with his sword. The sky above seemed to be full of eagles and, without looking hard, he could not tell which was his but the message was clear. "I was running out of bolts," he said, "so I figured I'd have to come down here to keep you two out of trouble. Who was the girl on Paint and wearing Chan's shirt?"
"Her name's Tunia," Helvon said, "an' we had ta swat five warriors off'n her back out near pink peak. She were runnin' from th' nomads an' Goovon."
"Goovon!" Kit exclaimed. "You mean he isn't dead?"
"Nope," answered the hunter, "struck a deal with ol' Silar. He were leadin' thet group o' 'hunters' we busted up. Heped ta train 'em too. Tunia warned us an' we rode in ta sound th' 'larm. Ya give us an assist on thet'n too."
"Here they come," said Chan, calmly. "I never thought I'd see an invasion from this perspective."
Moments later, they were all fighting for their lives. The small group of defenders that were left found themselves bunched up to the north side of the pass. Another contingent of nomad cavalry had stormed past them on the south side of the pass and was pressing them from behind. Of the original twenty Guardsmen, only seven remained along with the three hunters. The three friends had backed up against the north wall of the pass, as had the remaining Guardsmen, and had formed a defensive triangle with Chan at point and Kit and Helvon on either flank. The bodies of their assailants were rapidly piling up in front of them as their iron swords flashed in the late morning sunlight.
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